


Fix You

by Zandra_Court



Series: bb!verse-Zandra Interpretation [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, bb!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandra_Court/pseuds/Zandra_Court
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel, Balthazar, and Gabriel have been cursed into child-versions of themselves by witches.  While out on a hunt, Dean is hurt and Baby!Cas has to deal with not being able to heal him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix You

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [spnbbverse](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/19318) by vickjawn. 



> This fic is inspired by vickjawn's bb!verse cartoons, which you must stop now and go read before you do anything else in this world. [askspnbbverse](http://askspnbbverse.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thankfully, she lets us play in her world of adorableness.
> 
> [A beautiful piece of fanart](http://askspnbbverse.tumblr.com/image/48148360239) by [theangelmojo](http://theangelmojo.tumblr.com/). Thanks so much for drawing this!

“Bobby! Gimmie some help here!” Sam yelled as he shouldered his way through the kitchen door, one arm around Dean’s waist and the other holding on to his brother’s right wrist, which was pulling hard against the side of his neck. Dean’s left arm was hanging limp, drenched in blood.

“What the hell happened?” Bobby asked as he moved to help maneuver Dean into a chair and then knelt down to look at the damage.

“The wraith got a couple good licks in before I could kill it.” Sam panted slightly as he pulled the med kit out from its place under the sink. He opened the cabinet door to his left and paused. “Where’s the whisky?”

“I’m keepin’ it locked in the weapon’s chest now. Caught that two-bit angel kid trying to steal it again.”

“Balthazar! What have we told you about staying out of the booze!?!?” Sam yelled as he went into the next room and unlocked the chest with his key.

“Bollocks. Bobby’s lying.” 

Sam still couldn’t get used to having to look down when the angels came into the room, but there stood a pint-sized, blond Balthazar, his tiny black wings flapping slowly.

“Bullshit.” Sam growled as he pulled out the larger of the two whisky bottles, since sewing up Dean’s arm was going to be harder than normal, what with the muscle torn right along with the flesh.

“Tsk-tsk. You shouldn’t talk like that around me. I'm a tyke now!” Balthazar stomped his foot for emphasis, but his eyes twinkled with hubris.

“Just be useful for once and go get some clean towels, OK? Dean’s hurt.”

Balthazar’s expression changed from mischievous to concern in a blink. “OK, Samuel, I’ll get them” and off he bounded.

Dean’s scream of pain caused Sam to spin on his heels and lunge back into the kitchen.

“Holy fuck Bobby! What are you doin’?” Dean’s arm was now resting on the table, as he leaned forward in his chair, looking like he was gonna hurl.

“I’m sorry Princess, but the blood’s started to dry the torn edges of your shirt into the wound. I have to pull them out before we can start sewin’. Sam!” Bobby yelled as he looked up into Sam’s face. “’Bout damn time. Just give him the bottle and I’ll boil some water. We’re gonna have to soak some of that shirt off.”

Uncorking the bottle, he handed it to Dean. “How you doin’?”

Dean took a long swig and said, “Had worse. My own damn fault for steppin’ in too fast before you could get up close from behind. I’ve just been so tired lately from lookin’ after…” At that moment he saw the smallest of the three angels come running into the kitchen. As soon as Castiel saw his arm he squealed as his eyes filled with tears.

“Dean!” Castiel ran to him, burying his face in his side. Dean immediately patted the angel’s wings lightly, trying to sooth the boy.

“It’s alright, Cas. Sammy’s gonna sew me up right as rain. Don’t cry.”

Tiny hands clenched flannel and Dean could feel the angel’s small fists kneading lightly against his belly.

“Great. Now Baby-in-a-trenchcoat is gonna cry all night.” Gabriel jeered from the doorway.

“SHUT UP GABRIEL!” Castiel shouted, though his voice was muffled from still having his face buried against Dean’s middle.

“Here are the towels, Samuel.” Balthazar put a small stack of bleached-white hand towels on the table and took a few steps back, looking from his sobbing brother to Dean and back.

Suddenly Cas stood up and turned on his eldest brother. “You fix him Gabriel! You fix him now!” Gabriel was the only one of them who had maintained a tiny bit of his angel mojo, but so far he only seemed to be able to use it for stealing candy.

Gabriel smirked at his baby brother but it quickly faded when he saw that Castiel was serious. “I can’t fix that, Cassie. He’s too broke.”

“Fix. HIM!” Castiel walked right up to the archangel, standing nose to nose, although he had to lift off his heels to do it.

Gabriel gave his brother a hard shove, which sent the little boy falling back on his butt. “Get out of my face, Cry Baby!”

“Hey!” Dean’s voice rumbled through the kitchen, which made Gabriel look at him guiltily. He grumbled out a “Sorry” and then added, “Cassie, I can’t. His arm’s too broke. I would if I could, but I can’t.”

“Liar!” Castiel raged as he scrambled to his feet and started swinging. Gabriel shoved him hard again, this time causing his little brother to hit the table. The whisky bottle fell over and splashed some amber liquid into Dean’s open wound. The resulting scream was followed quickly by a stream of cussing.

“Alright y’damn idgits, get out of here!” Bobby grabbed Gabriel by the elbow and made a move to grab Castiel the same way, however the tiny angel was too quick and rushed back to Dean’s side.

Sam held up his hand as Bobby made another move for Castiel. “Balthazar, how ‘bout you and Gabriel go find something to do, OK?”

“Right then. Gabriel, let’s go. Cassie?” Castiel shook his head, refusing to look back at his brothers. Balthazar gave his older brother a slight shove and followed him out of the kitchen.

Dean sucked in breath as Sam and Bobby started treating his arm. Through clenched teeth he said, “Cas, go on with your brothers ‘K? This ain’t nothing you need to see or hear. Please. I’ll be fine and you’re just gonna be more upset if you stay.”

“No Dean. I’m staying. I’ll be quiet. I promise.” Dean let out another stifled scream and Castiel sank to the floor, wrapping his way-too-big trenchcoat around his arms like the security blanket it was. Slowly, he maneuvered himself between Dean’s legs and sat with his hands over his ears. He hated hearing Dean’s cries of pain, but there was no way he was going to leave him either.

It actually helped Dean to focus on the feeling of Cas’s wings twitching against the back of his knees, instead of the surgery Sam was performing. Between the whisky and the local anesthetic Sam had given him, the edge was off the worst of the pain, though he could still feel the tugging of thread through skin. Dean patted soft dark brown hair with his right hand as the tiny angel heaved quiet sobs against his calf.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, with his bicep in bandages and his whole arm wrapped tight across his torso, Dean leaned down to gently nudge the sleeping pile of angel, coat, and feathers at his feet. “C’mon Cas, time for bed kiddo.”

Sleepily, Castiel fluttered his eyes up at Dean. “Where am I?” asked the angel. Then he saw Dean’s arm and his eyes widened with memory. “Are you fixed now?” 

“More or less, little guy. Let’s go. Bedtime.” With his good arm, Dean lifted Castiel up under the armpit and helped the kid stand as he untangled himself from his huge trenchcoat.

Once they got upstairs to the skinny door that led up a narrow staircase to Bobby’s attic, where the angles had made their nest, Castiel hesitated.

“Can’t I sleep with you tonight? You might need me. I could get you water ‘n stuff.”

“You gotta sleep in your own space, Cas.” He wiggled his fingers. “See? Still got one good arm. I’ll be fine. Nighters, Little Dude.” Dean mussed Cas’ hair and smiled at him.

“Nighters.” Castiel said, giving Dean one more quick hug before ascending the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the tickle of feathers that first woke him up. Castiel was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking out the window, his wings moving almost imperceptibly back and forth, but enough to cause the lighter feathers to brush against Dean’s forearm.

“Cas? What are you doing here?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s 2am. Why are you even awake?”

Without turning around, Castiel said, “Just because I’m in a kid's body doesn’t mean I have to sleep like one.” In that moment, he almost sounded like the normal Cas, except that his voice was much higher pitched.

“OK. But I do. Well, I sleep like a man, but still, I have to sleep.” Dean shifted his hips more towards the center, giving Cas some more room to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Go ahead. You’re not bothering me.” Castiel was looking at him now with the same quizzical look that the older Cas would get whenever he didn’t understand what Dean was saying.

“I can’t sleep with you just sitting there Cas. Even in your grown-up form it was hard to sleep with you in a hotel room chair watching me. Why’d you think I sent you off all the time? It’s kinda creepy.”

He could see the angel’s face contort in the moonlight at the insult as tears welled up. _Shit_ Dean thought to himself. Cas was sensitive enough as it was, but now that he was trapped in the body of a child, he cried at the drop of a pin.

“I’m sorry you think I’m creepy. I’ll go away.” Castiel slipped off the bed.

“Aww, Cas, I don’t think you’re creepy. It’s just hard to sleep when some one is watching you, is all.” The angel turned around and wiped away the tears with his fingertips.

“What if I pretended to sleep? Would that help? Please, Dean. It’s all I can do.” Larger tears spilled over now and finally Dean understood.

“You upset because you couldn’t heal me, Cas?” There was a loud sniffle and the angel nodded his head.

“I always fix you, Dean. I hate that I can’t fix you and I hate those witches for doing this to me.” Castiel sobbed for a moment and then seemed to compose himself a bit. “Please let me stay.”

“Alright, you can lay down on the other side of the bed. But don’t bump my arm OK?”

Castiel’s face brightened as he climbed up over Dean’s legs and settled down into the pillow next to his. Tiny wings wrapped against his small body as he snuggled in, facing Dean, eyes looking carefully over him.

Resigning himself to being watched all night, Dean gave a sigh and closed his eyes.

“Dean?”

Struggling with his patience, Dean growled, “What is it Cas?”

“Why don’t you like it when I wanna sleep with you? Not just now, but ever.”

Dean let out a slow breath. How could he explain it? He certainly wasn’t going to get into the complexity of their “profound bond” with Baby Cas when he couldn’t talk about it with Grown-up Cas. But he also didn’t want to go into why it wasn’t OK for grown-ups to sleep with little kids either.

“I guess I’m just used to sleeping in my own bed. Too many years of having to share a bed with Sammy while growin’ up. Soon as I was old enough to demand my own bed, I did.”

“But you sleep with the women of illyput?”

“The women of where?”

“Illyput. From the den of inquickities.”

Dean laughed. “Women of ill-repute? From the den of inequities?”

“That’s what I said, Dean. I don’t know why you’re laughing.”

Dean tried to hold it in. The angels were both themselves and not since the curse. Sometimes they seemed to lose hold of their adult knowledge and vocabulary and other times, they just tried to force it. He thought how hard that would be and stopped laughing.

“Yeah, OK, I do sleep with women sometimes. But between us, I don’t generally like it. It’s just something I do ‘cause it’s harsh not to, I guess.”

“You mean after the sex, it’s kind to let them sleep in your bed?” _Now **there’s** the old Cas I know._

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

“OK." Cas took a moment, absorbing that thought and then said, "Nighters, Dean.”

“Nighters, Cas.”

Castiel wished he could snuggle up close to Dean, wrap his arm around him, so he could both feel safe and like he was protecting Dean as he always had. But he thought Dean would get mad. His curse-rattled brain held something on the edge of his understanding, but he couldn’t quite bring it forth. All he knew was that he liked hearing Dean’s soft, rhythmic breathing as he fell back asleep. Castiel looked up to the ceiling, watching the shadows dance for a long time before he too, succumbed to the drifting darkness.


End file.
